


I hate you...but I don't

by Kajune



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Guilt, Love/Hate, Minor Violence, One Shot, Self-Denial, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5653024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kajune/pseuds/Kajune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna confronts Michael over his feelings for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I hate you...but I don't

"I hate you!"

Anna screams, her tone utterly inappropriate and her temper brazenly made bare. Michael looks on in fury, his rage also made apparent through the roaring thunder in the sky. Anna continues to show no fear despite the danger.

This statement came late one night after Michael had drunk himself silly, as to not carry around any stress or mind-blowing concerns in his head. He does this often. Anna though, somehow discovered his location and explained to him how Sam told her of his feelings, of how he simply couldn't forgive himself for what he did to her, and her last words, were part of a declaration that she could hardly care less.

Michael thrusts her up against the brick wall inside an alley. She coughs, pain radiating throughout her preferred vessel, but she still glares at him determinedly. He can't tell if this pisses him off more or makes him feel proud. Angels seldom have the guts to stand up against archangels, and with good reason (aside from Castiel, of course).

"I hate you, Michael!" She repeats.

Her fingers claw at his arms, the ones pinning her roughly against the filthy bricks. He can't really feel the pain because she is so much weaker, but the fact that it is her doing it give off a far more agonizing sensation.

It only angers him more.

Thunder roars from above, and both know it's coming from Michael. The archangel would prefer Anna take the hint and shut her mouth instead of forcing him to use violence against her once again. She manages to swing a hand directly at his face, slapping him and again and Michael is so bloody tempted to just toss her against the opposite wall and...and...

But he doesn't, he can't hurt her.

He's only acting out on anger because she's pushing his buttons far too efficiently.

"You're disgusting..."

Anna blurts out, but this time it comes out choked, as if she's forcing all the words out. What else did Sam tell her, Michael isn't sure. It'd be unwise for the hunter to get her to lie to Michael in his face, to provoke a bad reaction for whatever the purpose.

"...Cruel...evil..."

Michael doesn't deny, doesn't speak, but simply presses against her throat harder, slightly crushing her windpipe so she will stop insulting him. She's right, actually, about him possessing bad traits, but he can't help it. To show kindness would not get him far in commanding the angels. They want to see strength, a figure who can direct them with little to no emotion or doubt.

Anna is acting like she wants to bring out his inner beast...or inner human.

"...just die."

She kicks and slaps and Michael reaches a breaking point in his restraints. He tosses her against the opposite wall, watches as she crumbles to the ground. He ponders on whether to just stomp her into the pavement but finds himself unable to harm her further. He cares too much about this particular angel. Instead, he acts upon her words and draws out his archangel blade, rolls up his right sleeve and starts slicing.

"You want this, Anna? You want this excuse of a prince dead!?"

He roars, and watches with mad eyes as she stares in horror at the sight of blood and grace leaking out. Her expression indicates she doesn't want him to do this, despite her earlier proclamation. He doesn't really care though, since he's been on a suicide mission for months now, giving all he has for the better of his people. Doing this, is simply to please the only woman he's ever loved.

She knows he loves her, so what is it could she truly want from him?

"No..."

Anna mummers. She tries to get up, to prevent the flow of red blood and shining grace from leaving Michael's arm. What does she want then, if not to prove her anger towards him? The damage inflicted on Anna keeps her from getting to her feet, and somehow, it reminds him so much of the time he cooked her raw.

Tears start to flow down his cheeks, and simultaneously from the sky.

Since it's summer and the weather has been anything but pleasantly cool recently, anyone who knows about angels will know it's an angel causing this. He wouldn't put it past Gabriel or Sam to figure out instantly why there's rainstorm right now.

Anna struggles under the weight of rain, and it takes little effort for Michael to just drop the blade and go down towards her, pick her up and hold her carefully by the wall. He removes his jacket and drapes it over her head, and when hazel eyes glance up at him, at his desperate face, he realizes he went a bit overboard in his worry.

Anna flashes him a small, sad smile.

He responds to this time by brushing her cheek gently, soothingly.

Before he knows it, the two of them enter into an embrace. He holds her tight, protectively, and maybe she notices or not the way his body shakes and trembles from the onslaught of sorrow and tears. The way she rubs his back indicates she knows what's happening.

He didn't mean to hurt her, but she gave him no choice. He doesn't know if she cares about him, and only took her word for it that he was nothing more than an evil person in her eyes. He's drunk, a little far from the path of logic, so his emotions got the better of him.

Now he regrets it.

They don't move for a while, and don't have to when the weather can't harm them. They're angels, two miserable angels with nothing but a mission to keep them going. Michael, deep down, desires Anna, and to Anna, it has become an offense that he chooses to ignore her yet still love her, still feels sorry for her.

She's too good at reading emotions. There's so much agony behind Michael's eyes, a neverending pool of self-loathing, doubt and pain and Anna feels responsible because if she keeps on hating him for his crimes, he will never find solace. In addition, she enjoys the fact that she's so deeply loved.

Anna doesn't know how long it takes before they come apart, but once they do, the first thing they both do is look into each other's eyes. There seems to be traces of understanding, love, and concern in both pairs. Feeling like they are finally on the same page, Anna leans up and brushes her lips against Michael's. It's wrong of her to do so, dangerous as well, but Michael doesn't push back, he simply lets her cover his lips with warmth and affection that he'd trade anything in his life to have.

Arms soon come round to hold her in place, keep her close. The rain grows gentle, less vicious, and Anna knows then that she is doing the right thing and Michael wants her kisses. She is delighted when he kisses back. It's only soft brushes, short-lasting connections followed by quick successions of more touching. Anna has her hands stuck to Michael's lower back, unmoving, and Michael doesn't caress her with his fingers.

They both feel this is already going too far.

From the tips of Michael's fingers, he heals Anna's wounds. From Anna's fingers, she ejects a soothing energy, which heals Michael's broken heart, even if just a bit.

They stop and part once the rain becomes nonexistent. There is still sadness in Michael's eyes, but it translates more to longing, and Anna wishes she could do more to help. He loves her, passionately, but refuses to push boundaries and remains at an arms length with her. Maybe this is for the best, considering the larger picture and what others would think, but Anna doesn't want to care.

Michael needs her, and she has never been one to deny a person her much-needed attention.

Even if that person is a self-denying archangel.

When Anna dives in for more rounds, Michael pulls back. He fidgets before nodding. He leaves both Anna and the jacket behind as he takes off. Anna swears she saw him shed another tear the second he vanished from her sight. In his absence, Anna cradles the jacket and begins to cry.

It hurts to know she can never hate him, not when he loves her so earnestly and does indeed regret having taken her life once.

She wished she had said, before they started fighting, that she loves him too. She wants to.


End file.
